


Family Doesn't End in Blood

by asaucecoveredsomething



Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Anxiety, Depression, F/M, Suicidal Thoughts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-13
Updated: 2021-01-13
Packaged: 2021-03-18 03:55:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,806
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28736832
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/asaucecoveredsomething/pseuds/asaucecoveredsomething
Summary: Storm is an x-wing pilot, member of Black Squadron, and close friend of Poe Dameron. On the anniversary of her sister's death, her depression and anxiety flare up beyond recognition, forcing Poe to intervene. After the war they go back to Yavin-IV and start a life together.
Relationships: Poe Dameron/Original Female Character(s)
Kudos: 2





	Family Doesn't End in Blood

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: This fic is purely an act of therapy on my end. I lost my sister to an opioid overdose right over two years ago and have been having an incredibly hard time coping with things this anniversary. Storm's thoughts get pretty dark including thoughts of suicide. If you so much as think this description may trigger you, do not read. 
> 
> If anyone else is struggling with this sort of scenario, please shoot me a message on Tumblr. My blog is asaucecoveredsomething on there as well. You don't have to do this alone by any stretch of the imagination.

Two years. Two years had passed since her sister’s death, and the grief still felt fresh in her chest. Her hazel eyes were ringed with red lines, wrinkled from 730 days of crying. Well, not exactly 730. There were lapses where she would forget for a while. Her memories would fog over, and a veil would drop between the day that changed her life and the life she currently lived for long enough to breathe. Maybe only a day. Maybe two or three. But the tears would eventually return with a vengeance. The grief never lessened. It never went away. It would simply subside from time to time. Other times it was as fresh as newly fallen snow, icing over everything else only to freeze away other emotions. 

Storm sat in the cafe fighting off another bout of tears. The horrible truth of things was that her sister had killed herself, however inadvertently. She’d been the one to choose spice over her friends and family. She’d been clean for so long, but relapses happened, and her’s had been of the permanent variety. The horrible thought had occurred to Storm earlier that day that perhaps her sister had intended on perishing at her own hand, and Storm simply wasn’t coping with this thought well. Storm sipped on a cold brew, the only nourishment she’d been able to hold down since the thought had occurred, and simply regretted ever allowing herself to trudge down that path of thought. 

The tears began to spill over. Something funny that always happened to Storm when she cried were her eyes changing color ever so slightly. Hazel brightened to emerald as the whites tinged red from blood streaks. Prior to her sister’s death, she’d found her eyes quite beautiful in these moments. Now she wanted to claw them from her skull. Perhaps then she’d quit seeing flashes of her sister in everything. As she cried she phased everyone and everything else out. They were white noise as her mental channel went off the air.

“Do you mind if I sit here?” A muffled voice broke her state. Storm sniffed, trying to suck down air. She hadn’t taken a breath in who knows how long. The last she’d noticed, the cafe was empty. Now, the only open seat was opposite her. She just nodded, hoping the man wouldn’t want her to speak. Her voice couldn’t be trusted. “You’re thinking about her again, aren’t you?” His voice stole her away from her sister. Brynne could wait a moment or two. 

“Do you think she did it on purpose, Poe?” Storm’s voice cracked and fragmented as she spoke. The words didn’t come out right. They were slurred together despite the most addictive substance in Storm’s system being caffeine. “Committed suic-”

“Don’t follow that trail of thought. You know where it leads.” She finally looked up at him, hazel meeting chocolate, and all she could see was his concern. “How long have you been here?” He gestured around the cafe then indicated her empty cup. 

“Uh.” She wasn’t sure. It had definitely still been morning when she’d walked in looking for something, anything to choke down that might resemble her normal life. A life where Brynne still commed her each night and Storm didn’t have to live with the vision of Brynne sprawled across a bed, bowels evacuated and bloody foam spilling from her lips, cold to the touch and utterly lifeless. 

“Long enough then.” Tears threatened to fall again, but not of grief. She’d lost Maker only knows how much time, and had to be rescued by the Commander. Poe softly wiped the tracks from her cheeks. His hands were so warm and large. Storm always felt secure in them. “C’mon, let’s get back to your room. I’ll let Kare know I found you, and we will get through this together.”

Storm didn’t really process his words. She just stood up when he did and followed where he walked. She didn’t want her room. It held too many memories of Brynne. Some good, some bad, but entirely too many of her as a whole. She wanted her sister back. Not memories of Brynne, but to see Brynne, hug her, argue with her, anything except only memories. 

She blindly followed Poe, not listening to a word he spoke. This wasn’t on purpose, she simply couldn’t focus long enough to maintain a coherent conversation. Had Brynne done it on purpose? Obviously the spice was done with consent, but was her death? Was that her final intent? To escape everything and take her own life instead of living under her addiction any longer? Brynne had been beautiful. Scarlet hair, emerald eyes similar to Storm’s when she cried, freckles splattered across her skin in every conceivable place. She’d had curves for miles, an illustrious smile, melodious laugh, and a kind heart. Brynne was everything her little sisters envied. Storm and their younger sister loved her intensely. It just seemed to Storm that Brynne hadn’t loved them even a fraction as much. She’d at least loved her spice more. At best, Brynne understood the risk of doing spice and decided to go ahead and feed her addiction. At worst, Brynne had decided to kill herself and take the only way out she could fathom. 

Storm genuinely wasn’t sure which option was truly worse for her to comprehend. Either way, she’d become the oldest sister in a matter of moments. She’d still lost a third of her soul. The three sisters were peas in a pod. They depended on one another. WIthout Brynne, their entire system toppled. In truth, Storm had lost both of her sisters that day, but only one had perished. The other simply cut off communication when Storm joined the Resistance in a rushed decision to get away from her memories. But the memories followed her regardless. Brynnes sweater sat on Storm’s desk; photos were tucked away but ever present in her mind’s eye; Brynne was always there. Her presence in death was much as it had been in life: infuriatingly her. 

“Commander, we can’t leave her alone.” It was Kare’s voice that caught Storm’s attention, if only briefly. Storm could recognize the familiar scent of Kare’s lavender perfume permeating the common area. It had to have been her voice. 

“Kare, you’re right. She can bunk with me. I’ll stay up with her, make sure she doesn’t hurt herself or anything.”

“Storm? Hey. Are you in there?”

“Brynne’s death date is today. She’s dissociating really bad. Would you call for a psych eval while I get her settled in my room? Kare, she’s scaring the hell out of me.”

“Psych is gonna ground her if they see her. Maybe permanently, Poe.” Kare hesitated to continue, just long enough to grab Poe’s attention away from Storm who had collapsed on a sofa the moment they’d entered the common room. 

“Why would they do that? This isn’t typical of her. Sure Storm has depression, we all have that, anxiety, or worse. A psych eval would ground her for seventy-two hours. I’ve been through it a couple times. So have you.” He leaned back on the sofa’s arm observing Storm as her glassy eyes glazed over with tears once again. This was so far from normal. This wasn’t her at all, at least not what he knew of her. 

“The physical exam. Look at her arms. Her dissociating is just a symptom.” Kare’s wild halo of curls bounced as she motioned to Storm. 

“Storm, sweetheart, let me see your arms.” His voice was soft. As commander Poe had unfortunately dealt with his fair share of pilots snapping under pressure. He knew tenderness was the best route to take in this situation. When Storm vaguely flopped an arm free from her chest where it had been tucked, Poe gripped her wrist and slowly pulled up her shirt sleeve. 

Storm tended to wear sweaters around base when she wasn’t in a flight suit. The base was large and drafty. Most of the Resistance troops stationed there kept light jackets on, save the handful from colder planets. Poe had to pull the loose sleeve almost clear to her elbow before he found what he feared: scars. Some fresh, likely cut within the last couple days, others were well-healed and likely several months old.

“Fuck.” His voice was a whisper, barely loud enough for Kare to hear, but loud enough to snap Storm out of her trance. Her arm jerked back rapidly. Storm drew her legs to her chest and buried her face in her knees. “Kare, keep everyone out for a while. My x-wing needs maintenance, just have the team work on that.”

“Do you still want me to get psych up here?” Poe drew in a breath. He couldn’t afford to have one of his pilots grounded for the foreseeable future. There were so few of them left. But Storm’s mental status could jeopardize a mission, potentially the entire Resistance depending on the mission they were running. 

“I’ll call for them after we have some time to talk. Maybe. Kare, we’ve all been here before and bounced back alright.”

“Understood. What does your ship need done?” She replied with a nod.

“Basic stuff. The time consuming stuff. Hydraulics on the left wing were a little screwy earlier, so look over that. Tell the team we just needed some time off after the mission yesterday. Both of us barely scraped by.”

“I will.” Kare promised before exiting the common room and leaving Poe and Storm to themselves. 

Storm had been avoiding his eyes this entire time. She knew the look he was going to give her, disgust. It’s the same look she saw in the mirror any time she’d indulged in the nasty habit. It was a habit from her younger days, one she’d kicked once before but picked back up when the grief got to be too much. 

“You’ve gotta talk to me. Your options are me or psych right now, Storm. What’s going on?” Poe sat down beside her. Storm wanted to crawl away, go hide somewhere she wouldn’t have to talk about the things running through her head, but she knew Poe was caught between a rock and a hard place. As her commander, protocol dictated he immediately report her to psych for any suspicions of being a threat to herself or others. He was giving her an out, a way to let him know to what extent she was willing to go before he made the final call. 

“Brynne.” She mumbled. Storm loosed her legs, opting instead to hold a pillow in her lap. It was soft, smelled of lavender like Kare, and was something to fiddle with if Poe made her talk too much. “Her overdose. Everytime I close my eyes it's all I see. Her body was covered in waste, her mouth wide open like she was screaming. We didn’t find her for so long. We were out that morning. She’d been laying there dead all night, and we didn’t know. There had to be noise, or some sort of sign. Why couldn’t I save her, Poe?”

“Because spice is horrible. It takes over your life, makes you steal from your friends and family just to afford that next hit. You’ll do anything for just one more high. Nothing else matters.” 

“Didn’t we matter?” Storm pressed the pillow to her stomach. “Kit and I were her sisters, her baby sisters. She raised us. We needed her. I still need her.” 

Poe wasn’t sure what to do here. Storm was crying again, but at least she hadn’t slipped away from reality yet. She needed comfort from someone. His eyes trailed down her hunched form, taking in just how small she looked curled around a pillow. 

“Can I tell you something that you can never tell another soul?” Her crying paused long enough to take a breath. Poe took this to mean yes and continued. “I used to be a spice runner, and no good runner peddles wares without quality testing. The stuff will completely alter even a Jedi’s resolve. It decimates the person who takes it, and spits out a shell. Brynne had been using for years, from what you’ve said before. She knew the risks. Every hit could have been her last.”

“Wait, what?”

“Between Endor and the Resistance picking me up, I ran spice for the Pyke’s. Leia forced me to get clean.” He took a deep breath. Storm uncurled. She turned just enough to face him. “And what you’re doing to yourself is almost as bad. Eventually you’ll cut a little too deep, place more pressure than intended and bleed out.”

“You say that as if that’s not the eventual goal.” She hadn’t meant to say those words, for him to hear them at all. But, given their proximity, Poe had heard them.

“Storm, whatever is happening in your head, don’t listen to it. I know you miss Brynne. I know you’re exhausted by death constantly around us, but damnit, Storm, I need you. The team needs you. The entire galaxy needs you.” His hands grabbed her wrists, pulling her closer to him than intended. Poe’s eyes leveled with hers, their noses brushing. 

“What is my life after the war? Hmm? I have no family left. Kit won’t speak to me since I left and Brynne is dead! My only skills are blowing things up in x-wings and self-harm. What prospects do I have outside of here?” Her voice steadily grew more confident, crescendoing along the way.

“Storm-”

“Because there’s nothing out there for me. This galaxy is huge and cold and horrible. And there’s nothing left for me-”

“Except maybe your family here!” Poe shouted. He hadn’t intended on yelling, but he shouted above her, jumping off the sofa in the process. “I have a place back on Yavin-IV. Just live with me. We can be a family. We’re definitely a better family than the one you’ve been dealing with.”

“Ah, yes, the spice runner-turned Resistance pilot and the suicidal idiot. What a family we are.” She snarked back, the words sour on her tongue. 

Poe could have smacked her, but chose not too. She was frustrated, under immense duress. She said whatever flew through her head without thought to the effects. Storm was done. She wanted her sister back, she wanted out of everything. 

“Well, yeah, we are. Who do you spend every ounce of free time with? Who do I go to when the night terrors get to be too much? We know every single thing about each other. Hell, I knew exactly where to come looking for you today when Kare couldn’t get ahold of you after trying to for three hours. Family doesn’t have to be romantic or blood. It can be two idiots relying on the other to hold them together.” A small smile cracked through her lips, garnering a bigger one from Poe. “And their droid. Don’t forget BB. He’s our buddy!” 

“Do we really do that much together?” Storm questioned. 

“Most of the base thinks we’re dating or married, so, yeah. A bit.” 

“Those same rumors go around about you and the rest of Black Squadron. And Finn. And Rey.” Storm had heard the rumors on base. They were inevitable given how closely everyone lived. 

“Listen, I’m just saying that we are already family, in whatever way you want to look at it, and we can stay a family even once the war is done. I’ll hold you together if you’ll hold me together, deal?” Poe extended a hand to Storm. The deal sounded simple, to help one another, but she could feel the intent beneath his easy words. This was a promise to stay alive, to end her poor habits, to be a better Storm. Storm hesitantly accepted his hand. 

“Deal.”

\---

The war was done. 

Chaos erupted over the coms. Storm had to rip her commlink out of her ear as the noise built. It was too much to handle on top of the flashes of light and people celebrating all around her. Exegol was destroyed, and with it the Sith presence. She breathed deeply the first breath of a life free of the constructs of the military and found peace. Her X-wing sailed low above the ground looking for somewhere to land. She had to find Poe. The war was done. They could retire and be that awkward family of three that he’d promised months prior. They could breathe. They could live their lives without the threat of the First Order. She couldn’t wait. 

Poe found her first. He’d landed before her and watched as her x-wing landed beside his. She popped open the hatch and exited the ship, zeroing in on Poe immediately and shoving through the crowd to reach him. They crashed into one another, Poe gripping her shoulders before pulling her to his chest and simply holding her there. 

“It’s over.” He had to yell over the din, but it was more of a whisper to Storm. “Let’s go pack.” He didn’t have to tell her twice. Both pilots climbed back in their x-wings, set coordinates for the base, and jumped to lightspeed as quickly as possible. 

\---

Adjusting to civilian life wasn’t nearly as easy as Storm had anticipated, especially for Poe who had been involved with the Resistance far longer than she had been. They went from everything in life being strictly regimented to complete freedom. There had always been noise on base, a constant whir of machinery, droids, working soldiers, and frequent PA announcements. Hiding in the woods on Poe’s homeworld was nothing like the base, and far from Storm’s upbringing on the lower levels of Coruscant. The world was lush, green, and filled with nature she’d never been privileged to see. The calm and quiet were anxiety inducing. 

Poe still woke every morning before the sun rose to make one incredibly strong pot of caff and ready himself for morning briefings that weren’t occurring. Storm woke later, generally to the sound of BB-8’s chirping that she rise before Poe attempted to make breakfast. He was capable of cooking, breakfast foods simply weren’t his strong suit. They’d eat, wash their dishes, then mill about the house trying to find things to do. After a couple weeks, the renovations Poe wanted were complete. His childhood home had been brought up to their time. That’s when their restlessness set in, when the projects ended. 

It started simply. A gnawing hunger for something more in life than just existing alongside someone else. Storm could only read so many books, watch so many holodramas, and learn so many crafts to keep her hands from being idle before she found herself sinking into a stupor again. She didn’t have a drive or purpose. Then it grew into something more, a ravenous unease regardless of what she did to lessen the existential dread. She just knew this little family wasn’t enough. They needed something more. 

So she adopted a Lothcat. Technically, Poe adopted him since the house was his, but Storm picked out which cat from the local shelter, named him, and absolutely doted on him. The cat was small though fully-grown, with onyx fur and green eyes that glowed in the dead of night. She named him Soot, and Soot was integrated into the family as if he’d always belonged there. 

About a year after moving to Yavin-IV Poe approached her one night. She’d seen him before perilous missions, consoled him after suicidal ones. Storm had never seen him quite so nervous as he was now. 

“Hey, Storm, uh, I wanted to talk to you.” Every scenario ran through her head at once. Had she done something to overstep her boundaries? Overstayed her welcome? Poe constantly told her he loved seeing her each day, but what if he only said that out of propriety for the arrangement? What if? Storm sat down the yarn and hook she’d been working into a blanket beside her on the sofa before joining him in the kitchen where he stood in the doorframe. The yarn was a deep, chocolate hue with varying tones of mochas and lattes. If Storm were honest with herself, the skeins had reminded her of his eyes. 

“What’s up?” She choked out. Soot laid lazily on the kitchen table, purring as she took a seat. Poe had poured two cups of caff, identically black and wonderfully warm for whatever he wanted to talk about. Storm couldn’t stomach either mug while Poe sipped at his. 

“Ah- fuck, I thought this would be easier- uhm-” He fiddled with Soot’s tail. The Lothcat purred louder, his head rubbing happily against Storm’s balled fists for love. “Uh, I, Uh, sort of want to be something more than whatever we are.”

Oh. That was certainly a better alternative than the scenarios running through Storm’s head. 

“Wait, what?” Her eyes went wide, hazel brightening to moss. “How so?” She picked up her mug and blew across the top before taking a sip. 

“I’m not sure. Shit, this is so weird. I’ve never been nervous about this sort of talk before.” Poe giggled nervously. One of his hands ran through his curls, tugging on them lightly. “I get that we are this little family. We’ve always been close, ever since Leia assigned you to my squadron we’ve been closer than most siblings. But what if our family wasn’t one in the sibling sense, but the spousal one?” Poe paused to contemplate his next words. “I mean, I don’t really see a point in dating to get to know one another. I know everything about you. Your favorite foods, what holos make you cry and what ones you watch to feel better. I’ve been with you through thick and thin, and you’ve followed me quite literally to hell and back without hesitating at Exegol. I just- just feel like we’d make one amazing couple.”

Storm sipped on her caff, mulling over his words. She’d be lying if she said she hadn’t thought of Poe the same way. More than once she’d wondered what they could be. He had supported her through everything, helped her through the worst phases of her life, helped her seek out the proper care when he couldn’t help her any more, and done so much in the years they’d flown together. Poe was her commander, her brother in arms, her brother, and, above all, her saving grace. Ever patient and caring, his voice never failed to bring calm to her tumultuous soul. She loved him for so many things. She could absolutely love him for more. 

“Sure.” Storm smiled at him, sitting her mug down as the realization that she’d accepted hit him. “Plus, can you imagine how adorable our kids would be? Like, these little, mini-Poe’s chasing BB around the house while Soot hides on the bookshelf?” 

“What if they take after you, huh? We could have a little girl who looks just like her beautiful momma.” 

“Nah. I’m nothing to look at. You, on the other hand, have always been one of the most handsome men I’ve ever seen. Those curls paired with your eyes and that ass. Lethal. There’s a reason men and women of all species fawn over you.” Poe twisted in his seat and glanced down to his butt, earning a chuckle from Storm. 

“The hair, I get, but my ass? Really?”

“Since we’re getting married and everything now, expect for me to grab it like a lot.” She shot him a smile over her mug. “You have no idea the restraint it took to not grab it anytime you were bent over your x-wing working. Not even in an inherently sexual manner, just because it was there and nice.” Poe’s eyes rolled almost involuntarily. 

“In that case, it’s only fair that you expect me to grab your boobs pretty much constantly. Especially when you’re walking around the house in loose t-shirts.”

“Not the tight stuff, but the loose ones?”

“Yeah! The fabric drapes and flows really nice. It makes me wonder what’s underneath.” Storm finished off her mug of caff. 

“Well, given that we are engaged now and all, why don’t you find out what’s underneath?” She flashed him a soft smile hoping Poe would register the hint. Poe’s eyes lit up immediately.

“Kriff yes.”

\---

He tasted like caff, that was the first thing she’d noticed. When his plush lips were on hers and his tongue mingled with her own, she could taste the caff fresh on his mouth. Next was his hands, soft and agile they moved rapidly to touch as much of her as possible. He claimed he needed to memorize every inch of her body. Last was how his curls wound around her fingers when she tugged him back to her for another kiss. They knew the moment couldn’t last forever, but damn if they didn't try and make it. 

\---

They officially married a couple months later surrounded by friends back on the base where they’d met. It had seemed fitting to tie the knot where so many memories had been made. Plus, after months of realizing civilian life simply wasn’t working out for either of them, they’d opted to sell the house and re-enlist with the Resistance to aid in establishing democracy throughout the galaxy as Leia had dreamed of for so long. At the request of the other ranking officers, Poe resumed his position as General, as he had at the Battle of Exegol and was placed as the leader of the base. Storm enlisted as a noncombatant, to be an envoy to other systems and serve as a point of communication between the Resistance and local governments of the systems she visited. 

Poe wore a simple suit of black, nothing flashy but the cut complimented him immensely. Storm wore a largely unadorned gown of white and a short veil barely long enough to touch her shoulders. The only decoration was a bit of bead work to accentuate the bust. She hadn’t wanted anything expensive despite Poe’s protests that she deserved the moon. The ceremony was quick and simple with an exchanging of rings and vows before their closest friends and anyone else on base who happened to be off duty at the time. Poe insisted on Storm wearing his mother’s rings, and Storm had Poe’s custom-made from a piece of durasteel off his x-wing. BB-8 carried them with pride. 

At the end of the night, the couple had an additional announcement, their child would be arriving in roughly six months. Everyone was under orders to baby proof the entire base until Poe changed his mind. 

\---

Over the next few years the Dameron family continued to grow. After their first child, a daughter with brilliant green eyes and illustrious chestnut curls named Leia, they wanted another quickly. Next came a son who was the spitting image of his father with every bit of his mother’s mannerisms and attitude called Kes after Poe’s father. When Leia and Kes started school, Storm wanted to have one more child. She’d been a middle child herself and grew up with fond memories of her siblings. What she hadn’t bargained for was two. Shara and Brynne, named for Poe’s mother and Storm’s sister respectively, were as different as night and day. Shara took after Storm in almost every way possible while Brynne followed her father.

Their quarters on base grew entirely too small to contain the family, forcing them to move off base into a spacious home. In truth, Poe greatly preferred this for the kids. He’d grown up on Rebel bases with his parents and wanted his kids to see that the military wasn’t the only option in the galaxy. A home away from base would let them do exactly this. Storm eventually left the Resistance to raise her children. With each child, her will to be away from home lessened more. Her children meant everything to her and she couldn’t very well show them that from twenty parsecs away. Coming home each night to a happy home meant more to her and Poe than any career ever could. 

Storm raised their kids with the love and support she never received on Coruscant. When Kes began exhibiting signs of depression as a teen, she swooped in immediately to ensure he had the help he needed. She’d struggled for far too long with nobody, her older sister eventually paid the ultimate price for having untreated issues, and Storm would not allow her son to do the same. Her own mental health would dwindle from time to time, but finding a true purpose, her true calling in life as a mother, well, that changed her entire life view drastically. When she would fall, Poe was always in her corner to lift her back up again.


End file.
